XIX.

I sometimes think that never blows so red The Rose as where some buried Cæsar bled That every Hyacinth the Garden wears Dropt in her Lap from some once lovely Head.

The original of this quatrain is found in O. 43.

Everywhere that there has been a rose or tulip bed, It has come from the redness of the blood of a king; Every violet shoot that grows from the earth Is a mole[41] that was (once) upon the cheek of a beauty.

_Ref._: O. 43, C. 47, L. 110, B. 106, B. ii. 105, T. 304, P. v. 159.--W. 104, E.C. 4, V. 109.